by Mallory Kane
“Deke? I think I feel something.”
Deke froze in midstride. “Something with the baby? Are you okay?”
“No. I mean, yes. I’m fine. It’s not the baby. It’s like air. I feel air on my neck.”
He stayed still. Yet she knew from the change in the tension of his back muscles and from her familiarity with his body that he had his hand up and was testing the air.
“Come on,” he said, and moved forward.
As they got closer to the running water and the sound increased, Mindy started thinking she saw something. Which was impossible, since there was no light anywhere.
She blinked, making sure her eyes were open.
Sure enough, there was something not quite hellhole-black in front of her. All at once she got her balance back, and the vertigo went anyway.
“Deke, do you—?”
“Shh!” His hand reached back and connected with her tummy. She felt him flinch, but he didn’t jerk away. “I need to check this out,” he whispered. “Stay here.”
Terror gripped her, causing her little Sprout to stir restlessly. She grabbed Deke’s hand and squeezed it. “Deke, please. Don’t leave me. Not in the dark.”
“Stay here!” Deke’s voice brooked no argument.
Mindy stayed. She trembled and hugged her tummy. Her eyes devoured the faint hint of less-than-total blackness in front of her. Her ears strained to hear the smallest sound that would tell her that Deke was all right. And her pulse drummed so hard and fast that she thought she might pass out. But she stayed.
Suddenly, a shadow moved directly in her line of sight. At first she wasn’t sure she saw it. She attributed it to the darkness and her fear and anticipation. But it kept coming closer.
Looming, menacing, like a spectre out of a dark lagoon, it stalked toward her.
Her pounding heart sped up even more, until she could feel the throbbing in her temples, in her wrists, even in the restless movements of her baby inside her. Then Sprout kicked her—hard.
She gasped.
“Mindy?”
Deke. His precious voice was right there. In front of her. It was Deke.
“Deke?” she breathed.
“Yeah. I was counting my footsteps. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“What did you find?”
His hand touched her upper arm and slid down until he found her fingers. He clutched them.
“Wait and see.” He couldn’t disguise the excitement in his voice.
Mindy’s pounding heart calmed down immediately. Right now, here in this menacing, dark place, she caught a glimpse of the handsome, cocky teenager she’d fallen in love with so many years ago.
He’d been supremely arrogant—certain that there was no obstacle he couldn’t conquer, no mountain he couldn’t climb. Happy and teasing and gentle, excited to show her a new discovery. From the moment she first laid eyes on him, he’d been her hero.
She hadn’t seen him in eight long months, although she’d come close to calling him a dozen times to tell him he was going to be a father. Then she’d thought better of it, decided that she and her child would be better off if she never got sucked into his self-destructive life.
Seeing him now, she wasn’t sure she’d made the right decision.
She squeezed his fingers back. “Take me.” She heard the tremor in her voice.
He put his arm around her waist and led her forward and around a curve. As soon as they rounded the corner, Mindy saw a silvery-blue light shining down from above like a spotlight. In the light’s circle was the spring they’d heard. It warbled and bubbled, its shimmering water reflecting the light like something magical as it flowed over pale rocks.
“Oh—” She was speechless.
Deke’s hand tightened on her waist and he nuzzled the delicate skin right in front of her ear. “Welcome to your fantasy forest glen, my lady,” he whispered, a smile in his voice.
“This is so beautiful. How—?”
She felt him shrug. “Best I can figure, this is a major artery of the old mine. They put it here, where the underground spring carved out this natural cavern.” He started forward, guiding her at his side as he talked.
“The light comes from what looks like a wooden chimney way above us. Look.” He pulled her close to the stream and pointed above their heads.
Almost too distracted by the sheer incredible relief of seeing light before her eyes, Mindy finally assimilated what he’d said and looked upward.
“I think it’s a ventilation shaft. They sometimes had problems with the air quality in these mines. So they’d build shafts to let in fresh air.”
“And light!” she exclaimed.
Deke’s finger touched her chin and his thumb urged her to raise her head.
She did. When she met his dark gaze lit by blue fire, her knees grew weak.
“And light,” he murmured. Then he bent his head and kissed her.
His kiss was like coming home. Like heaven. Like life. She melted into the warmth and sensuality of his mouth on hers, and responded. He kissed her more intimately, and a thrill slid though her entire body, settling in her sexual core.
Then Sprout kicked her. She drew in a small, sharp breath and instinctively pressed her palms against her side.
Deke backed away instantly. “What was that?” he asked. “Are you all right?”
Mindy smiled sadly. “It’s our son kicking. He likes to get me right here, in the side.”
“Our—” Deke looked down at her tummy, then back up. His eyes glittered in the pale blue light that barely managed to chase the shadows away from the circle under the ventilation shaft.
“Our son,” he whispered, an expression of awe lighting his face.
His words, his voice cut through to her heart. She heard fear, but along with the fear was a note of wonder.
And there he was—the man she’d never seen, the man she’d always known he could be. If he’d ever learn to trust her, or himself, enough.
She nodded and lifted her hand to touch his cheek.
But he took another step back, straightened and turned away. He walked over to the edge of the stream.
“You need some water,” he stated matter-of-factly without turning around. “I found an old candle bucket in the corner. I cleaned it with sand and anchored it between some rocks so the flowing water would rinse it out.”
Mindy felt like he’d ripped her heart right out of her chest. She’d always wondered what it would take to break through the wall he raised whenever someone got too close. Her love had never been enough. She’d hoped little Sprout would be.
But his damn pride and fear had overpowered him. So he’d forced his feelings—what he considered his weakness—back behind the wall that shielded his heart.
He kneeled and picked up the bucket and brought it to her, half-filled with water. His face was expressionless, his voice remote. “Here. I’ll hold it while you drink.”
She held the sides of the bucket between her palms and guided it to her lips. The galvanized metal rim was icy-cold, and she had trouble swallowing the water past the lump in her throat, but the few swallows she managed to get down tasted heavenly.
It was sweet and cold and thoroughly refreshing. It ran over the edge of the bucket and dripped down her chin onto her breasts and tummy.
Deke held the bucket patiently. As soon as she’d finished drinking, he turned on his heel and with his back to her, he drank his fill.
“Come over here,” he said without turning around.
As she followed him over to the wall, she took in what was around her. There was a small stack of railroad-ties against the wall that was obviously intended as a crude bench. Buckets were scattered around, sitting up or overturned. On the ground to the side of the railroad tie bench sat a large metal tray covered with a piece of steel screen. Several feet beyond the bench stood an old vehicle that looked like a wagon with a cover over it.
“What is all this?” she asked Deke.
“I think this was
probably a popular lunch spot with the coal miners. Somebody took the trouble to build the bench and the stove. And check that out.” He pointed to the vehicle.
“That’s a man car. Covered with a blanket. Look at the lanterns attached to the sides. They look like they still have oil in them.”
Mindy turned her head to look, but she must have moved too fast, because dizziness overwhelmed her.
Deke caught her arm. “Whoa. Sit down over here. You’re exhausted, and I am not about to try and get you back on your feet if you faint.”
She made a face at him as he tugged on her arm until she followed him over to the bench. He gently pushed her down.
“Now stay there. The miners who worked down here had a pretty clever setup. We’ll have some dinner in a few minutes.”
“Dinner?” she said weakly. As if on cue, her stomach growled and Sprout wiggled and pounded against her side.
“Yeah. Do you see the silver flashes in the stream?”
“No.” She squinted. “Maybe.”
“They’re fish.”
“Fish? There are fish down here?”
“I haven’t figured out what kind they are, but I’m about to.”
“What are you going to do?”
He picked up one of the buckets and brought it over for her to see. “Somebody punched holes in the bottom of this bucket.”
“A lot of holes,” Mindy agreed.
“I’m thinking they used it to fish—like a net. With any luck, I can anchor it in the water and come up with a few fish.”
“Fish,” Mindy breathed. “I’m so hungry I could manage to eat them raw. But—?”
Deke grinned at her and pointed at the pile of ashes and twigs. “Don’t worry. We’ll cook them the old-fashioned way.”
WITHIN TWENTY MINUTES, Deke had a bucketful of fish, and the legs of his jeans were soaked through. He climbed out of the stream, shivering when his bare feet hit the air. The spring was quite a few degrees colder than the surrounding atmosphere.
He brought the dripping bucket over to the campfire site and set it on a piece of railroad tie.
Raising his head, he started to speak to Mindy, but her eyes were closed and her lips were barely parted. She was asleep.
Compressing his mouth into a thin line, Deke sat on his haunches and watched her for a few minutes. Her soft mouth, her delicate brows and the eyelashes that lay on her cheeks like big fuzzy caterpillars, all the little parts of her that were tattooed on his heart.
His gaze slid down her neck and breasts to her tummy. Pregnant, she looked and acted so different. She had a contentment about her that she’d never had when they were together.
Just the sight of her soft, serene expression made his heart hurt. Why was she serene and happy now? Was it because he was out of her life? Why hadn’t he been able to bring that look to her face?
As soon as the question rose in his mind, he knew the answer. It was simple. He could never give her ease and contentment, because he was a breaker. He broke promises, broke vows, broke hearts.
He sighed. Even if he couldn’t give her contentment, he could give her his protection. He owed her that much. He’d brought her into this mess.
He resolved to let her sleep until he got the fish cooked, then once she ate, he’d make sure she slept some more.
For several minutes, he explored the cavern. It wasn’t huge, but it was like a vast, empty auditorium compared to the dark, narrow tunnels that fed into and out of it.
The main tunnel had eight sets of rails that ran downhill, parallel to the stream. Four of the sets came from the tunnel behind him. Its incline wasn’t nearly as steep as the north one. The other four came from the east—the tunnel from the anteroom in the hotel basement—and joined the first four just above the sharp downhill incline.
He continued northward, examining the walls for other tunnels. In a pocket close to the rail intersection, he found a pile of branches and twigs. Beside the pile was a bucket of kindling and one about half-filled with candles.
Deke propped his fists on his hips and looked back toward the ventilation shaft, thinking about luck and coincidence.
A cozy campsite with readily available fuel, a water source and a light source. It was too good to be true. It could easily be the latest in a series of traps set by Novus Ordo. Force them to take this tunnel, bring them to a veritable underground paradise complete with everything they needed to fill their stomachs and calm their minds. Then attack them while they were asleep.
He had to hand it to Novus. It was amazing what he’d managed to put together on a moment’s notice. Amazing and frightening. Deke wondered how many men Novus had in the U.S. who were available and willing to drop everything on an hour’s notice to carry out a focused and unrelenting attack.
Oddly enough, he no longer felt that prickle on the back of his neck. Maybe Novus’s men hadn’t managed to wire this section of the mine.
He thought about what Frank James had said to him.
You’ll be hungry and thirsty and tired. Your gal there’ll be pretty darn sick from hunger and exhaustion.
It made perfect sense, knowing Novus. He was wearing Deke down, as he’d done before. After his capture in Mahjidastan, Deke had been trussed so tightly his shoulders had been dislocated, then he’d been thrown into a filthy, stinking tent. Each day at the same time, a robed man brought him a bowl of foul-tasting mush and one of dirty water. Then hours later, another robed and masked man would come in, order Deke to rise to his knees, spin the cylinder of a revolver, and fire it at Deke’s head.
Those two visits took about six to eight minutes out of his day. The other twenty-three hours and fifty-odd minutes, he was left alone to think about the next day, when they would come again.
Deke pushed his fingers through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck as a deep shudder racked him. He wanted to give Novus and his ridiculous toy cowboy something to think about. He wanted to leave this lovely, compelling little cavern behind and spend the night poised for ambush, waiting for them to come looking for him.
But Mindy was already dog-tired; her face was drawn and pale. Right now, the most important thing was to make sure she got nourishment and rest. For herself and her baby.
He brought a pile of branches back to the campfire and, using a candle stub for a starter, soon got a nice fire going. He washed a small piece of screening to put the filleted fish on, then set it on the stove to cook.
By the time the fish were cooked, Mindy was stirring. Deke took the makeshift plate over and set it beside her on the railroad-tie bench.
“What’s this?” she murmured sleepily.
“Dinner. Unfortunately, this is the entire menu. I don’t even have any salt—or utensils.”
“This is perfect.”
The fish was tender and fell apart easily. Deke held back and let Mindy have as much as she wanted. She downed at least six of the small filets. When she sat back and sighed with contentment, Deke, who had been busying himself with the fire, finished them off.
Then he brought her a bucket of water. “Drink first,” he said, “then wash up.”
She obeyed, then glared at him. “Now, you bring some fresh water up here and some sand or gravel.”
He frowned at her.
“I’m going to wash your arm. And I want some of that lantern oil to disinfect it.”
“I told you, Min—”
“I don’t care!” She held up a hand. “You said yourself the lanterns on that car had oil in them. Now bring me some. And get those bandages off and use the bucket with the holes in it to wash them in the stream.”
It was Deke’s turn to obey. By the time she’d scrubbed the gash in his arm with sand and water, and poured lantern oil into it—which burned like a sonofabitch—he was cold and strangely tired.
“Long before we had modern ways of cleaning and disinfecting wounds, people used kerosene, gasoline, even gunpowder, to clean wounds.”
Deke uttered a short laugh. “I guess I’m lucky
we don’t have a gun. I can hear you now, telling me that fire is the best disinfectant.”
“Don’t make fun. If it gets any worse, I may have to burn it. See the inflamed areas at the edges of the wound?” she asked.
Deke didn’t want to look. He felt like his arm was on fire, and yet the rest of him was shivering with cold.
“That’s cellulitis. It means your wound is infected. I’ll bet you have fever. Damn it, Deke. If you’d let me clean it when I wanted to, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“It’s not a problem.”
“Yes, it is. I’ve got to keep an eye on this. If we see red streaks starting up your arm, that’ll mean the infection is serious.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You’re already not fine. Now bring me those bandages.”
It took only a few minutes for Mindy to wrap his arm. Afterward, he quickly cleaned up the campsite, doing his best to make it look as if it hadn’t been disturbed. Then he helped Mindy cross the shallow spring.
During his exploration earlier, he’d found a pocketlike alcove in the wall on that side of the spring. It was deep enough that they could sit in the shadows and see into the tunnels without exposing themselves.
“I’m going to have to sit you on the ground,” he told Mindy. “But I promise there aren’t any bugs.”
She chuckled quietly. “Don’t worry. Bugs are the least of my worries right now.”
Deke looked at her, wondering how he was going to get her to the ground. If it weren’t for his arm, he’d pick her up and lay her down, but she was right about his wound. It seemed to be getting hotter and more tender. He shivered.
If her efforts didn’t stop the infection, he was terribly afraid he might not make it much further under his own steam.
But he didn’t tell her that.
“How do you want to do this?” he asked.
“If you can hold my hands, I can lower myself to the ground. Getting up will be a different story, though.”
He helped her to the ground. “Are you cold?”
